What Might Have Been But Never Was
by Scribbler
Summary: Teana and Atem: a love doomed to fail. She's a commoner the courtiers won't accept as queen. He's a royal heir destined to die early. In a court steeped in legacies of blood, a prince of Egypt isn't allowed to show weaknesses like grief or heartbreak.


**Disclaimer****:** Grievingly not mine.

**A/N****: **Written for Challenge #016 – 'Envy' at ygodrabble over on LiveJournal.

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_**What Might Have Been (But Never Was)**_

© Scribbler, October 2010

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The smell of blood halted him; coppery with a sulphurous edge, like someone had tried burning something incombustible. His guards opened the door and he rushed right into it – and stopped, horrified.

It was a scene from a nightmare. His mind refused to believe his eyes. The thick puddles on the floor were tar. The smell was from a sacrifice or meal. The harem ate out here, after all. His great-grandfather renovated the palace so the women's complex, which used to be separate, instead connected with the main structure, like a queen beside the throne of her king. Despite this, women who lived there had their own community; sleeping, eating and working away from everyone except their guards unless summoned. Kings visited concubines here and only called a few to their own chambers. To be allowed _there _was a special honour. He wasn't king yet, and wasn't even married, but the same rules would apply afterwards.

A croak from the gloom snapped him back to reality. The torches had been snuffed. He rushed forward anyway, snapping at a guard for light. When the scene became clearer, he almost wished he hadn't.

"Bring healers!"

She tried to push him away he stanched the blood. It was unbecoming for a future king to dirty his hands.

"I don't care!"

"Don't be… ridiculous. You… have responsibilities."

"I don't _care_! Who did this? _Tell me_!" He didn't care about politics. The harem was famous for internal strife. Men usually ignored it and let the women sort out themselves, but this was unacceptable. This was _unforgiveable_.

Her mouth opened. A sticky bubble popped on her lower lip, spraying her chin with red specks.

"Who _did_ this?" He sounded like a spoiled child. He faced the guards. "Bring out everyone. Wake them all. I want the perpetrator found!"

Her grip tightened in pain.

"Where's that healer?" His voice was desperate.

"…knew… possibility..."

Knew, but ignored it. His mistake, which she'd paid for.

Everyone expected his marriage to come from the princesses and noblewomen donated to the harem. Nobody expected him to find a wife elsewhere. His advisors warned that consigning high-bloodlines to roles of concubines and lesser wives would breed discontent. Elevating a lowborn girl – even one with magic – to Great Wife, future Queen of the Two Lands, risked criticism. He disregarded everyone and brought her to the palace anyway. He loved her. Criticism he could handle.

Stupidly, it never occurred to him what the word actually meant.

"Téana," he murmured brokenly.

The chief advisor arrived to find the crown prince weeping over their still-tangled fingers.

"Raise your head."

"But–"

"A king never shows weakness."

"But she–"

"Is dead. You must choose another." Akhenaten's gaze didn't flicker or show remorse. He was impenetrable; endlessly pragmatic. He could talk to royalty like an equal without reprimand. Nothing bothered him – that showed, anyway. "Perhaps you'll choose more wisely this time."

Anger briefly overcame deference. "Find her killer."

Akhenaten didn't flinch. "As you wish, my _prince_." He emphasised the title, though why wasn't clear. Disapproval? A reminder of status? He departed without further comment.

"My prince, you should raise your head."

"Seto?" Seto was his friend, confidante, priest, protector – all that and more. "She's dead, Seto."

"I know."

"I… wanted to make her my Great Wife."

Seto's expression was more understanding than Akhenaten's. This was probably why she'd been assassinated. Bearing his heir was more than some could resist. "You should still raise your head, my prince." There was that strange note again.

"I won't marry. Not from _them_." Someone here was Téana's murderer. "I don't care who's offended. I want them all gone before the coronation."

"Yes, my prince."

Atem finally released her hand and raised his head.

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_**Fin.**_

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